


Open Heart Surgery

by MockStrad



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: AU, Abuse, Animal Abuse, Classical Medicine, DadSpy, Green Card Marriage, Loss of Citizenship Fears, M/M, Non-Merc Names Used, Physical Abuse, Red Oktoberfest, spousal abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29708961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MockStrad/pseuds/MockStrad
Summary: Ludwig has spent almost five years with his abusive husband. He just needs to finish out the five years before he can divorce him and keep his citizenship. Unfortunately, a stranger appears and throws a wrench in his carefully laid plans.
Relationships: Heavy (Team Fortress Classic)/Medic (Team Fortress 2), Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2), Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 80





	1. Coffee and Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: This story is about an abusive relationship so please be aware that there will be some uncomfortable scenes featuring verbal abuse as well as physical abuse. Please stay safe. 
> 
> I'm trying to go with canon names when I can. In this chapter we have: 
> 
> Medic as Ludwig  
> Heavy as Misha  
> Scout as Jeremy  
> Classic Heavy as Chevy

It had been a long four and a half years. Ludwig flipped through his appointment calendar before work and frowned.There was a little heart next to the day’s date. Right... This was their anniversary, wasn’t it? One of them, at any rate. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and looked over at the clock across the room. Surely Chevy wouldn’t be awake at this time of day. He would have to call on his lunch break. 

If he felt like calling at all. 

As he gathered his things and left his apartment there was a weight on his chest. In six months he would be able to finally end things and be a free man. Until then, it was a daily struggle of keeping himself above water.    
  
One such struggle was no way to get to work. Chevy had insisted on driving him every day when they lived together, now he was forced to take public transport or waste his money on rideshares. If he was lucky one of the staff would offer him a ride, but that was rare. Most didn’t start as early as he did.    
  
Today was warm and sunny, the trees casting sparkling shadows on the ground as the air rustled their leaves. It wouldn’t hurt to walk, he reasoned. What kind of doctor would he be if he didn’t get some exercise once in a while like he was constantly telling his patients to?

When he was almost at the office, Ludwig paused at a small coffee shop that had just opened. He was sure the nurses would be buzzing about it soon enough. Checking the time and realizing he would still be early, he made to duck into the shop.

Only to hit a brick wall. 

“Excuse me!” the wall gasped. 

Ludwig’s glasses had gone askew in the shuffle and he quickly adjusted them. No, it wasn’t a wall, it was a man. For a moment he tensed until he looked up at the face.   
  
“Are you alright?”    
  
The stranger had a thick accent and a kind face despite his size.    
  
Ludwig quickly shook his head, replying, “Oh please, I should have been watching where I was going. After you.” 

After a short pause the man asked, “German?” 

“Ja,” Ludwig answered, then shot him a sly smile. “Russian?” 

“Da,” the stranger chuckled. “Ah… I don’t mean to keep you, sir.”

Shaking his head, Ludwig said, “I was merely stopping in for a morning treat, you weren’t keeping me from much.” 

“In that case, allow me to pay for you. As an apology for nearly knocking you over.” 

“That isn’t necessary--”

“Please,” he said. “I insist.” 

They negotiated their drinks and Ludwig took another moment to check his phone. Still plenty of time before work, but now he had a text waiting for him. The number appeared, but no name. He knew exactly who it was.    
  
“Misha!” the barista called. The large man who’d bought his coffee approached the counter and picked up their drinks.    
  
Ludwig took his drink from the man with a smile. “Misha, then? It’s good to meet you. My name is Ludwig.” 

“Ludwig,” Misha repeated. 

“Again, I do appreciate your kindness but I was on my way to work,” Ludwig said. “It was very nice to meet you, Misha.” 

Misha hesitated before grabbing a napkin. “Wait.” He looked uncertain as he pulled out a pen and scribbled something on it. Before he could change his mind he thrust it into Ludwig’s hand. “My… Mobile number,” he grumbled, looking embarrassed. “I would like to speak again. If you aren’t too troubled by it.” 

Too shocked to turn it down, Ludwig gave a small nod and tucked the napkin in his pocket. “Well… Thank you again.” 

With a final wave, Ludwig dipped out the door and down the street. He could feel color rising to his cheeks as he stepped through the double doors of the clinic, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the scalding coffee in his hands. 

He tried to shake off the feeling as he got to work. 

“Mornin’ Doc!”

Ludwig glanced up from his paperwork, a little surprised to see Jeremy standing in his doorway. “You’re early,” he noted.    
  
Rolling his eyes, Jeremy tapped his watch. “Right on time, as usual. Man that paperwork must be interesting.” 

Jeremy had been Ludwig’s personal scribe since he’d gotten his placement at the clinic. The boy was smarter than he appeared but had made some poor choices in his youth. It had prevented him from getting a nursing degree, but Ludwig found he was dependable and an excellent listener… When he wasn’t running his mouth. 

Ludwig stood and stretched. “Forgive me. I had some things to catch up on. Is our first patient here yet?” 

“Nah, but they should be in a few.” Jeremy paused, momentarily distracted. “What’s that?” 

He was pointing at a spot on the floor. Confused, Ludwig looked. It took him a few moments to realize that it was the phone number of the Russian from the cafe. He quickly snatched it up before Jeremy could make out the numbers. “Ah, just something I forgot in my pocket.” It was quickly squirreled away into a drawer. 

Quirking an eyebrow, Jeremy repeated, “Just somethin’ you forgot.” 

“Indeed.” 

“So it’s garbage?” 

“Ahh…”

A serious look passed the young man’s face and he asked, “Is it a note from  _ him _ ? Isn’t he not supposed to be talking to you?” 

Ludwig hesitated. “No, I… It isn’t anything like that.” 

“Good. I’ll kick his ass if he comes near you again, you know that right?” 

“I’m sure I can handle the ass kicking myself,” Ludwig answered airily. 

Jeremy snorted. “Yeah, sure... Anythin’ you want me to take care of before the patients get here?” 

Polishing off his now-cold coffee, Ludwig waved him off. “Make sure the room is ready and get your station prepared. We have a long day today, twelve patients.” 

Long was an understatement. Ludwig had practically forgotten about Misha again by the time lunch rolled around. He settled into his office to eat in peace, looking at his phone for the first time since he’d arrived at work. 

His heart dropped. 

That number had sent him no less than fifteen texts and called five times. Sighing, Ludwig knew it was only a matter of time before he would be expected to answer. His hand going to the ring he wore on a chain under his shirt, he dialed the number. 

It only rang once. 

“ _ What, finally decided you had the time for me today? _ ” 

“I was caught up with work.” Ludwig paused. “What do you need?” 

A crackling sigh came over the speaker. “ _ What’s the point in having voicemail if you aren’t gonna listen to them? _ ” 

He hated this game he liked to play. “If you aren’t going to be plain with me then I’ll speak to you after work,” he said.

There was a moment of silence before Chevy spoke. “ _ I’m sorry. I just… I miss you. _ ” Ludwig’s heart skipped. He hated that it did. “ _ It’s our anniversary today. The first day we met in person. Do you remember? _ ” 

“Ja,” Ludwig breathed. “I remember.” 

“ _ Lemme take you to dinner tonight. Please? Just dinner, I promise. _ ” 

Logically, he should have said no. Logically, he should have screamed at that man and hung up on him. But love didn’t know logic. 

“Café Offenherzig?” 

“ _ I’ll pick you up at six _ ,” Chevy answered. Normally he’d argue about going to a German restaurant, but he was clearly wanting to butter Ludwig up. 

“I’ll meet you there,” Ludwig replied. “It’s alright. I’m sure you’ll have to come straight from work.” 

Chevy was quiet as he considered this before answering, “ _ Alright. See you at six then. _ ” 

It was only after he set the phone down that Ludwig realized what an absolute idiot he’d been. With a groan he set his forehead on the desk. His heart was beating unusually fast and he could feel his breath starting to come in short bursts. ‘ _ I did this to myself _ ,’ he thought, bitterly. 

Why was it so hard to say no to his husband? 

\---

At the end of the day, Ludwig took some time to clean up his desk. Opening one of the drawers he frowned at the napkin, momentarily confused. Then he saw the numbers scratched into it.  _ Misha _ … 

He studied the numbers again and again before making a decision. He typed them into the SMS program and began to type. 

‘ _ Good afternoon Misha. It is Ludwig, from the café. I do apologize for taking so long to text you. It was good to meet you this morning, but I hope that I did not give you the wrong impression. I am actually married. However, I would like it if we could be friends. I do not know many other European immigrants (well, I suppose it depends on where in Russia you came from, doesn’t it?). Let me know. -Ludwig _ ’

The messaged looked stilted and overly formal, but he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Better to tell the man up front than have him inadvertently lead him on. Then again, what were the odds that the man who was just his type would buy him coffee and ask him on a date all in one day? 

His phone buzzed. 

Quickly looking, Ludwig’s shoulders sagged when he saw that it was a message from Chevy reminding him not to be late. Of course. Why would Misha answer so quickly? 

Ludwig stepped out of his office, locking the door behind him. He could hear some of the nurses chatting, the staff all waiting for him before they could lock up for the evening. “Sorry for the wait,” he said as he headed for the door. “Everyone have a good evening.” 

A chorus of “good night!” came in response. Before Ludwig could make it too far, Jeremy had caught up to him. 

“Yo, Doc! You need a ride home?” he asked. “It ain’t too far out of my way, I can take you.” 

“That is kind, Jeremy, but I’m going out to dinner before going home.” 

Jeremy was already pulling out his car keys. “Where at? I’ll take you.” 

Ludwig let out a sigh through his nose. “That’s quite alright. It’s a nice afternoon, I’m fine walking.” 

Jeremy gave him a  _ look _ . This particular look meant he had an idea that Ludwig was hiding something from him. Luckily, he left it alone. For now. “You have my number, right?” 

“Indeed.” 

“Okay. If you’re in trouble or anything… Just gimme a call.” 

“I assure you, I’m quite fine.” 

Snorting, Jeremy shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the beat up little Honda Civic he drove. “Yeah, sure old man. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” 

Despite himself a smile spread over Ludwig’s face. He never thought he’d see the day when a man so young would be this concerned for him. What kind of life was he living where someone like Jeremy was constantly fretting over him? 

\---

As Ludwig walked up to the café he could already see his husband standing outside waiting for him. He towered over most of the others coming and going, as he did most places. Taking a breath, Ludwig approached. 

“Chevy,” he greeted. 

“Hey,” Chevy answered. He paused, looking awkward for a moment before holding out a bouquet of roses. “Here.” 

Red roses. Ludwig had always hated cut flowers. 

“Thank you, _ehemenn_ ,” Ludwig answered with a smile. 

Soon enough they were seated at a little table in the back. Ludwig touched the petals of one of the wilting roses, feeling its wrinkles. Chevy ordered for him. He didn’t bother to correct him. 

When their drinks were served, Chevy downed his beer and immediately ordered a second. Ludwig could feel the blood draining from his face, his legs beginning to go numb. Why had he agreed to come here? The roar of the restaurant felt deafening and the only thing keeping him grounded were the petals of these ridiculous roses. 

“Hey,” Chevy barked. 

Ludwig’s gaze met his. 

“I, uh… I asked how your day was.” 

An awkward pause. “It was… Fine,” Ludwig finally said. “Tiring. We had a lot of patients. How was your day..?” 

Chevy was resting his chin in his hand, a third half-empty beer in his hand. He looked like he couldn’t have cared less what Ludwig’s day had been like. “It was good. Even better now that I’m here with you,” he purred. Letting go of his beer he slid his hand over the table, petting Ludwig’s. 

There had been a time not long ago when that feeling would have been comforting. Now it almost felt like a threat. 

“Hey,” Chevy murmured. “When are you gonna come back home?” Ludwig sucked in a breath. “It was just the one time,” Chevy interrupted. “You can’t keep holding it against me forever. That was, what, three months ago?”

“Six and a half weeks,” Ludwig answered, bitterly. 

“Baby, you can’t do this. I wanna make things right but you’ve gotta put effort in, too. You can’t keep acting like I’m the bad guy then refusing to meet me halfway.” 

He had a point. Or he would have, had it not been for what he did. 

Ludwig pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, effectively dislodging his hand from under Chevy’s. “I agreed not to press charges. I feel I’ve been more than accommodating. You know my terms for returning.” 

Chevy’s large fist slammed into the table. The plates and glasses rattled, Ludwig’s water nearly tumbling over. The other patrons looked in their direction curiously. 

“So what, you’re just gonna keep threatening me with therapy? Is that what this is?” Chevy hissed. 

“You need it,” Ludwig insisted. He was surprised at how calm and firm his voice was. Maybe it was because he’d gotten to the point where he learned to expect these outbursts. “I will come back once you complete a month of one on one therapy and join me for couple’s therapy. Until then, I stay in the apartment.” 

Chevy snorted at that. “Yeah, the apartment that you won’t give me the address for. Not even for an emergency.” 

“No, I will not,” Ludwig said. 

The waitress was approaching with their food. Chevy stood quickly, throwing down a couple of twenties. “We’re leaving,” he snarled. 

“Feel free to leave. But I would like to enjoy my dinner.” 

The waitress nervously put down their dishes. She darted away as soon as she was finished and Ludwig suddenly felt less sure of himself. He’d been seated in the corner and she was the only thing between himself and Chevy. 

A hand wrapped around his arm, yanking him out of the chair. Ludwig tried to keep his face even as Chevy dragged him out the door. The hostess wished them a good evening and the spring air hit Ludwig like a bat. He was being dragged further and further from the restaurant and when it finally hit him that they were going toward Chevy’s car he tried to put his feet down and stop.    
  
Chevy stumbled, stopped, and turned to look him in the eye. 

“We’re going home,” he said. His voice was eerily calm. “We’re gonna go home and play house and you’re gonna like it. You understand?” 

Ludwig tried to yank his arm out of Chevy’s grip but the larger man was too strong and tightened his grip painfully. Ludwig gritted his teeth. “I’ll call the police this time,” he shot back. “If you don’t let me go this will not go well for you.” 

“Are you  _ threatening _ me?” 

The retort died in Ludwig’s throat as Chevy reeled back and punched him. He let the German go so suddenly that Ludwig didn’t have time to catch himself as he collapsed to the ground, head spinning. 

A moment later Chevy was by his side on the ground. 

“Babe..? Babe, oh my god I am so sorry.” He looked panicked, taking Ludwig’s face in his hands and trying to look at the blossoming bruise on his face. “Shit… Shit, I… I’m sorry,” he breathed. 

Ludwig slapped his hands away and ran. He could hear Chevy shouting after him, begging him to stop, begging for another chance. Ludwig didn’t stop running until he reached his apartment. 

Once safely inside he let the tears flow freely. The salt didn’t help his wounded face, but he couldn’t help it. What a fool he’d been, thinking he could change him, thinking things would be different this time. He limped to the bathroom, taking a look at the damage. 

A bruised knee, a skinned palm, and a black eye. 

Worst of all, he hadn’t gotten his dinner. 

Pulling out his phone, Medic decided to order some take out. He didn’t have the patience for cooking right now, but he wanted some food. There was a message waiting for him that made his hand stop. 

‘ _ Ludwig, I hope that my approaching you didn’t give you the wrong idea. I would be glad to be friends. Even though I am technically from Siberia. Let me know if you’d like to meet for coffee this weekend. -Misha _ ’ 

For some reason the little kindness from that stranger he’d met that morning caused the tears to fall even faster. 


	2. Philosophy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter the new character is: 
> 
> Spy as Thomas
> 
> Pronounced "To-MAS". Since Spy doesn't have a canon name I decided to use the French pronunciation of Thomas as a nod to Tom Jones.

Ludwig awoke the next morning with his head throbbing. He reluctantly put a hand over the afflicted area, trying to shield his eye from the light streaming through his window. The bruise began to sting as his fingers brushed the puffy skin. It had been a while since he’d had to apply makeup to hide something like this, but when he looked in the mirror he quickly realized that wouldn’t cut it. 

And he certainly couldn’t arrive to work wearing sunglasses. He really didn’t want to field the questions from Jeremy or the nurses. 

Deciding to deal with it later, Ludwig instead sat down for some breakfast and looked through his phone. Of course there were the plentiful texts from Chevy asking if he was alright and insisting he was sorry. Buried in them, though, was a conversation he’d been having with Misha. 

It turned out that the Russian man was quite the intellectual. They’d spent part of the evening while Ludwig waited for his dinner chatting, Misha making occasional comments which Ludwig had to occasionally re-read. 

‘ _The nature of humanity is to be good, ultimately. At least according to Mencius, and I’m inclined to agree with him,_ ’ He’d noted in response to Ludwig’s offhanded comment about bad drivers. 

This morning the Russian had sent him another message; ‘ _I hope the evening’s conversation gestated well. If you have some more time today I would like to continue_.’

A smile crept over Ludwig’s face as he typed out a response. 

\---

As expected, his ailment didn’t go unnoticed. Ludwig found that, unfortunately, he had a slight limp from his bruised knee on top of his blackening eye. Even if he was facing away he would be caught from his stilted movements. 

When Jeremy arrived in his office to begin the morning notes, he froze and stared at Ludwig’s face. 

“Doc--”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ludwig interjected. He didn’t bother looking up from his computer. 

“What--”

“I said leave it, Jeremy.” Ludwig gave him a firm look. 

The lithe man was practically vibrating with anger. “I’ll kill him,” he spat. “I’m gonna break that fucker’s _knee caps_ , I swear to god, I--”

Ludwig quickly stood, placing his hands on the desk. “Absolutely not.” 

Back in Boston Jeremy had made a rather unfortunate reputation for himself as a street tough. It was a common hobby for people like him who grew up as a Southie in a poor neighborhood but not something that would lead to a better future. Ludwig didn’t know the details, all he knew was that once a bad scrape had landed Jeremy in the hospital his mother had begged him to change his ways. It ultimately led him to Ludwig’s clinic. 

Jeremy sniffed, rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand, but relented. It was clear he wasn’t ready to let it go but he and Ludwig both knew that if he got into any more trouble there would be no saving him. 

“Where are the cases for today?” Jeremy croaked. 

Between patients and all through his lunch Ludwig found himself texting Misha. Their conversation was pleasant and easy, something Ludwig hadn’t had in a long time. They had already made their weekend plans but he couldn’t get enough of the large Russian’s wit and charm. 

He almost missed his visitor at the end of the day because of it. 

“I never took you for a texter,” he said, blowing smoke into the air. 

Ludwig would have been happy to see him were it not for the poor timing of his dinner with Chevy. 

Placing his phone in his pocket, Ludwig crossed to the smoking area his friend stood in. It hurt to smile but he did his best as he said, “Thomas, good to see you.” 

Thomas finished his cigarette in one drag, stubbing it out in the garbage can beside him. He gave Ludwig a once over with his hawk-like gaze before nodding to his car. “Dinner?” he asked. Ludwig nodded. Pushing off the wall, Thomas led the way. 

As they approached his sports car Ludwig noted Jeremy eyeing it enviously. He gave the boy a wave, drawing Thomas’s attention. The moment his gaze fell on Jeremy, however, they shifted away again and he slid into the car. 

The drive was quiet, as it usually was with Thomas. He lit another cigarette, rolling the window down beside him as a courtesy. It didn’t help. Ludwig resisted the urge to pull his phone out again and send another text to Misha. Thomas was one of those friends who appeared just when you needed him. He rarely had much to say, but when he did it was always important. He’d spent much of his life running from his own problems so Ludwig supposed he would find himself an expert in solving others’. 

They sat together in a little French bistro, Thomas drinking a coffee as they waited for their food.

“I’m no doctor,” he finally said. “But judging by the coloration on your black eye I would say I’ve come to visit just in time.” 

“As usual you are quite perceptive,” Ludwig responded with a sad smile. 

Thomas set his mug down, fixing Ludwig with a hard look. “Did he find you?” 

“It was our anniversary.” 

It was all the explanation that was needed. 

When the incident had occurred, Thomas was there. He hadn’t told Ludwig what to do, hadn’t judged him for refusing to press charges. He simply offered his help. And help he did; within a few hours they had packed up all of Ludwig’s belongings. Within a few days he’d found someone who was willing to take Ludwig as a tenant on short notice. 

“I am not the kind of man to judge another for his decisions,” Thomas sighed. 

Ludwig held up a hand to stop him. “He wanted dinner. He got angry and tried to take me home. I stopped him so…” He motioned to his face. 

“So what now?” 

The answer should have been obvious. Now he should call the police. Now he should stop this by filing a restraining order. 

But if he did he would then be fighting to stay in the States. 

“Now,” Ludwig said, slowly, “I wait him out.” 

Thomas was studying Ludwig intensely. There was an understanding in his gaze. Still, he looked ready to make an argument otherwise. 

Instead he replied, “I’m here for you. You know that.” 

Thomas paid the check and dropped Ludwig off at home. Ludwig promised him that next time they would talk about something else. They both knew that was a lie, but it was nice to dream. 

In the comfort of his apartment, Ludwig retrieved his phone. One of the things he liked most about talking to Misha was how patient he was. He didn’t expect replies immediately and only sent two texts at a time if he wanted to add on to what he’d already said. As expected, the text that Ludwig had been in the middle of answering when he left work was still waiting for him. 

The evening devolved into a playful argument over Russian and German classics. 

\---

Ludwig had tried to prepare Misha for his injury. But seeing the yellowish green of the healing black eye was still a shock. 

“You weren’t kidding,” Misha managed. He looked concerned. “Does it hurt..?”

“No, no, I’m quite fine,” Ludwig said. 

He’d had plenty of time to convince Misha it came from an accident. He’d hit his eye on a bedpost, he explained. Now that they were in person Misha didn’t look as certain of that story. To his credit, he said nothing. 

They’d agreed to meet at the little coffee shop where they first met. This time Ludwig paid and they sat together at a table. 

“When we first met, you said you were on your way to work,” Misha noted. “Where do you work?” 

Ludwig motioned toward the street. “The clinic just up the way.” 

“You are a nurse? An aid?” 

“A doctor, actually.” 

Misha chuckled. “I didn’t want to assume. But it explains your intelligence.” 

Despite himself, Ludwig’s heart skipped. “And what do you do, Misha?” 

“I am an architect. Our office is up the road the opposite direction,” he explained. 

“I dare say we would have met eventually.” 

“One can only hope. Our chats are the most stimulating thing I’ve had to entertain me since I moved here,” Misha said with a smile. 

Their talk drifted this way and that. Each time a new thread of conversation presented itself they would grasp onto it, pulling and pulling until a new thread caught their attention. Soon they’d finished their coffee and set out into the city, walking side by side. They walked through the nearby park, Misha’s booming laugh occasionally echoing over the grass. 

It was nice being able to focus on someone other than himself. But the spell had to be broken sometime.

“When we first started texting, you mentioned you were married.” 

Ludwig tried to keep his shoulders loose as he hesitantly met Misha’s gaze. 

“Forgive me… You don’t speak of your spouse. We’ve talked about so many things, what are they like?” 

Misha’s eyes had drifted to Ludwig’s left hand a few times throughout the afternoon. He’d taken off his wedding ring more than a month ago, instead wearing it around his neck. It weighed heavy on him, but he couldn’t throw it away or risk losing it. 

Sighing, Ludwig motioned for them to sit on a bench. “I am married, yes. I have a husband,” he explained. “Technically we are separated but for _legal_ reasons we are still married.” 

“A green card marriage, then..?” Ludwig’s expression must have been hard because Misha quickly added, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to assume.”

“It wasn’t,” Ludwig said. “Not at first.” 

There was a heavy silence between them. 

“We met online. I’d been planning to move to the States for quite some time and was trying to make some friends. Back then he was… Sweet. Charming…” Ludwig’s hand went to the ring under his shirt. “It was his idea to get married. Admittedly it was much too fast, but it would get me my green card and I would be able to begin taking my exams to get my US medical license. It expedited things for me.” 

He sighed, putting his face in his hands. The healing bruise stung under his palm. 

Misha placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “How long have you been married?”

“Four years in five months, three weeks,” Ludwig stated. “Once we’ve been married for five years I can finally divorce him, no questions asked. I won’t lose my citizenship and I can continue living my life.” 

“He hurts you,” Misha breathed. Startled, Ludwig looked up at him. Hesitantly, Misha added, “The bruise… I wasn’t sure at first, but that doesn’t look accidental.”

Ludwig ran a hand through his hair, sighing through his nose. “You’re too perceptive, mein freunde. But you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t live in our home anymore.” 

Misha looked relieved. “Then you left because of this?” 

He didn’t want to lie, but there was too much to explain. Why he’d gone to dinner that evening, why he hadn’t called the police, the only explanation that made sense was why he stayed. 

“Yes,” Ludwig replied. “I left because of it.” 

\---

Ludwig walked home by himself. He’d desperately wanted to invite Misha over, ask him to come inside, maybe even… He had to shake off the stupid, romantic thoughts. Misha hadn’t made any moves toward him in the whole time they’d been speaking. It was all friendly. Completely platonic. 

Unlocking his door, Ludwig slipped inside and paused when he heard his phone ding. 

He had no reason to be this infatuated with Misha already, he reasoned. He was acting like a school boy with a crush. Despite himself, he pulled his phone from his pocket again. 

‘ _Text me when you’re home safe._ ’ 

Ludwig’s heart fluttered. 

_Dammit_. 

He was in love.


	3. Batter Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter contains physical assault and verbal abuse. 
> 
> New cast member, today we have:
> 
> Sniper as Mick

Wounds healed. Bruises cleared. But heartaches always took more than time to resolve themselves. 

Ludwig and Misha often met for coffee over their lunch breaks. Occasionally on the weekends they would go to brunch or walk in the park in the afternoon. Ludwig learned about Misha’s sisters, his mother back in Siberia, his love of philosophy and art, and his hope to make his family proud. Every moment spent with Misha made Ludwig’s heart break even more. 

Misha was a wonderful man. How could a man like that be expected to wait for Ludwig?

After the incident at the café, Chevy had withdrawn. Ludwig would get the occasional text but for the most part the pair didn’t speak. It seemed that the wait would pay off soon enough. If he could keep Misha’s attention just a little longer, maybe he would have a chance.

The hope of the quiet wait was shattered one evening after his shift at the clinic. 

Most of the staff had left already. Jeremy and Ludwig had stayed behind with the clinic manager to finish up some paperwork before the weekend, and by the time they made to leave it was already dark. 

“Lemme drive you home today, Doc,” Jeremy insisted as they walked toward the entrance. “It’s too dark for you to be wanderin’ around by yourself.” 

Ludwig opened his mouth to respond as they stepped outside, but froze at the scene before them. 

“Babe!” Chevy cried. “Babe, look, I’m sorry!” His face was ruddy with drink. In one arm he held an overflowing bouquet of flowers in an assortment of colors, in the other a bottle of wine. It was open, half empty. “I’m sorry, baby, please come home. We can talk about this.” 

Ludwig’s healed eye twinged at the thought. For a moment he was too shocked to speak. 

“Buzz off, dickweed!” 

Jeremy was gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, glaring down at the mess of a man before them. “He don’t wanna go with you, alright?” 

“The fuck did you just say to me?” Chevy hissed. The flowers were thrown to the ground and he took a swig from the wine bottle. “Huh? What’d you say you little twerp?” 

Even as he took heavy steps toward the building, Jeremy stood his ground. “I said buzz  _ off _ ,” he snapped. 

Before Chevy could get any closer Ludwig stepped in front of Jeremy, shielding him from his husband’s view. “You need to go home. Now,” he insisted. 

“Got yourself a new boy toy, huh babe?” Chevy slurred. “That what you’re doin’ in this office all day? Playing around behind my back?”

Disgusted, Ludwig repeated, “Go. Home.” 

“Nah, what’s his name? I wanna meet my competition. I wanna see what you think this scrawny little bitch has that I don’t.” He took a stumbling step closer, catching himself on the railing. He couldn’t even make it up the stairs. 

Ludwig could feel Jeremy behind him boiling with rage but he held out an arm to stop him. “You’re not feeling well, Chevy, you need to go home,” he said, softly. 

“Take me home, babe,” Chevy whined. “I wanna sleep next to you, I miss you.” 

Softly, Ludwig said to Jeremy, “Get to your car. Don’t draw attention to yourself.” 

It wasn’t the best option, admittedly, but he couldn’t risk Jeremy being hurt because of his poor choices. If Jeremy could make it and drive away before Chevy knew what was happening then everything would be fine. At least, the young man would be fine.

Before Jeremy had the chance to move, a voice across the parking lot shouted out, “Everythin’ alright over there?”

It happened in a flash. 

Chevy turned to get a look at the newcomer. Jeremy ducked from behind Ludwig and rushed to his car. When Chevy saw him running, he dove after the younger man. Jeremy was fast, but Chevy was big and he managed to catch him by the back of his jacket. They both went down. 

“Stop!” Ludwig cried, rushing over. 

The pair scuffled for a moment and the sound of breaking glass cut through the night. Jeremy cried out in pain before Ludwig was able to drag Chevy off of him. 

Ludwig tried to hold Chevy back, only succeeding because he was so drunk. “ _ Du Biest, verschwinde von hier! _ ” he screamed, unaware that he’d slipped into German until Chevy’s confused eyes met his own. 

“Baby,” Chevy breathed, the stench of alcohol burning Ludwig’s nose. He was trying to get a grip on Ludwig’s arm, trying to pull him closer.

Jeremy’s trunk slammed shut. He shoved Chevy away from Ludwig with the end of a metal baseball bat. Blood and wine dripped from his face as he held it up, ready to swing. “You better fuckin’ walk away, pal,” he said. “Walk the fuck away right. Now.” 

Time stood still. Chevy was eyeing the bat, trying to weigh his odds. Ludwig’s heart was hammering against his ribcage as he prayed that Jeremy wouldn’t go after him. The last thing Jeremy needed was a call to the police. 

The stranger from across the lot stepped between Chevy and Jeremy, holding up his hands. “Everybody calm down,” he said, gently. 

Realizing that he’d made a mistake, Chevy took off. The stranger called after him to stop but he ignored him and disappeared into the night. 

“Jeremy,” Ludwig said, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Let me…” He had to swallow a lump in his throat. “Let’s go inside, let me look at your face.” Jeremy had lowered the bat and was glaring over the newcomer’s shoulder after Chevy. Ludwig could feel him shaking. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” 

“You got nothin to be sorry for, Doc,” Jeremy finally managed. 

“Who was that? Someone you know?” the man asked, following Jeremy’s line of sight. 

Ludwig hesitated before answering, “It’s no problem. Thank you for helping us.” 

“Just happened to be passing by,” he answered with a shrug. His attention moved to Jeremy and he put a gentle hand under his chin, tilting his head to look at the injuries. “Mm… You got lucky. Just a few surface level cuts.” 

“Doesn’t hurt,” Jeremy grumbled. 

“That’ll be the adrenaline. I think I’ve got some antiseptic in my car.” 

“I’m a doctor,” Ludwig interrupted. “I can take care of him.” 

“Cheers, you can probably do a better job than me,” the stranger admitted with a small smile. “Want me to stick around?” 

Ludwig was about to say no when Jeremy spouted, “Yeah.” It seemed the run-in had shaken him more than Ludwig thought.

Nodding, the man helped Jeremy back to the building. “My name’s Mick,” he said.

“Jeremy. This is Doc-- er… Ludwig.” 

Mick stayed with them until Jeremy was patched up and the pair were safely in his car. He left his number in case they decided to call the police, but Ludwig and Jeremy both knew that wouldn’t happen. When Jeremy pulled out of the parking lot they saw Mick getting into a camper van parked a bit up the block. 

The ride back to his apartment was eerily silent. Jeremy’s scratched face was difficult for Ludwig to look at. When they finally parked, Ludwig spoke.

“I am so sorry to have gotten you involved in this,” he said. “And I promise it won’t happen again. I’ll figure something out, we can transfer you to another clinic if you’d feel safer. I can file a police report--”

“I’m not leaving,” Jeremy murmured. 

Ludwig hesitated. “He hurt you. I can’t let him get to you again.” 

“Better me than you.” 

The words caused Ludwig’s blood to run cold. 

“You can patch me up. I’ll be good as new. But I dunno what he’ll do when he gets to you, Doc, and that scares me,” Jeremy explained. “Guys like that, they don’t stop with split lips and black eyes. They don’t... Stop.” 

“You are not my shield,” Ludwig said, firmly. “You’re my friend. If you continue to get hurt because of me, I don’t know that I could keep you as a friend.”

Jeremy leaned on the steering wheel with both arms, frowning at the windshield. “Good luck with that. Because there ain’t a lotta guys I’d go to bat for. But you’re one of ‘em. Okay?” 

All he could say in response was, “Thank you.” 

\---

“You’re quiet,” Misha said. Ludwig looked up from his lunch. “Is something wrong?” 

His mind was still reeling from the incident with Jeremy. Still, he and Misha hadn’t spoken about his husband since their conversation in the park. Ludwig wasn’t sure he wanted Misha to know the extent of the problem. At least this time he didn’t have an injury he had to lie about. 

“It was a long day yesterday,” he said. “I’m just recovering.” 

Misha looked as though he wanted to question it but gave a small nod instead. He never pushed, but Ludwig could tell their earlier talks had concerned him. “Maybe we should forego the walk today. Can I take you to the cinema instead?” 

“Are you sure?” Ludwig asked. 

“There’s a film I was interested in seeing. But I hate going alone.” Misha gave him a shy smile. “This just gives me an excuse to invite you instead.” 

Ludwig smiled in return. “Very well, I will save you from the burden of loneliness,” he teased. 

It was the early afternoon and the theater was mostly empty. A couple sat further back from them and talked quietly before the film started. Ludwig and Misha sat beside one another, Misha momentarily struggling to get comfortable. 

“The arm rests come up,” Ludwig offered. 

“Do they?” Misha pushed on the one between them experimentally. The arm tilted upward and away from them, leaving Misha with more room and Ludwig with slightly less. “Is this alright? I’m not crowding you, am I?” 

Ludwig shook his head, eyes fixed forward. After a moment Misha gently called, “Ludwig,” drawing his attention.

The larger man looked worried. “If I am too close I can put it back down. You can tell me the truth.” 

Grateful for the dark lighting to cover his warming face, Ludwig sucked in a breath. “I’m afraid that if I get too close to you I won’t be able to resist.” He couldn’t keep this secret, not from Misha. When the man gave him a confused look in return, Ludwig added, “I like being close to you, Misha…” 

It took Misha a moment to consider his options. Finally, he put his arm between them, palm up. Leaning in, he murmured, “If you would like, you can hold my hand. But I understand if you would prefer not to. I don’t mind being close to you, Ludwig.” The lights dimmed and the film began, Misha falling silent as his eyes drifted to the screen.

It took half the movie for Ludwig to slide his trembling hand into Misha’s. The warmth of the other man’s fingers curling around his own immediately calmed him. For a moment the weight of his wedding ring weighed lighter on his neck and all he could feel was the warmth and comfort of the man beside him. 

\---

Every day after work the next week Jeremy offered to drive Ludwig home. The last thing he wanted was to draw more attention to the boy, so he began letting Jeremy leave early and called a rideshare for himself. As the days grew shorter it was more difficult to send Jeremy home when it was still light out. It soon became apparent that it would be safer to let Jeremy stay so they could leave together. 

On the way out the door on Friday evening Ludwig stiffened when he saw two people waiting for them. A whiff of smoke told him who one was, and his eyes darted toward the gangly stranger, relaxing him further. Thomas and Mick. Though why Mick was back he couldn’t say.

“Mick!” Jeremy called, waving. The other gave a small wave back but waited as Jeremy turned to Ludwig again. “Alright Doc, last call. You want a ride home?” 

Ludwig glanced at Thomas then back. “No, I’ll be fine.” 

“Aight. Stay safe.” With that Jeremy bolted across the parking lot to Mick’s side, already chattering as he approached. 

Thomas’s eyes were glued to them until they disappeared around the corner. 

“What a surprise,” Ludwig said. “Do you never plan ahead to meet?” 

“Who was that?” 

Ludwig hesitated. “I believe his name is Mick. A new friend.” 

Thomas stubbed out his cigarette. “The bandages on the boy’s face. What are they from?” 

“You could ask him yourself.” The glare he received could have frozen Hell over. Slowly, Ludwig explained, “Chevy came here to meet me. Jeremy got involved, but he’s fine. Just a few minor cuts and bruises.” 

Ludwig could see the wheels turning in the other’s mind. Swallowing, Ludwig added, “I told Jeremy to run. I never would have put him in danger if I’d known Chevy was going to come here for me.” 

“Why is he still here?” Thomas demanded. 

“What..? Jeremy?” 

“Why have you not transferred him to a safer clinic?” 

“He refused to go,” Ludwig answered. “I offered but he refused.” 

Thomas shoved his hands in his pockets, beginning to walk to his car. Confused, Ludwig followed. “My one request was that you keep him out of trouble,” Thomas said. His voice was soft but there was a boiling fury in him. He wrenched open his car door, narrowing his eyes at Ludwig who’d stopped a few feet behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” Ludwig breathed. “The last thing I would ever want is for your son to get hurt because of me. I’ve been doing everything I can to keep him safe since then.” 

The chilly fall air cut between them bringing with it the scent of dying leaves. Trash and foliage danced against the fence nearby before dropping like broken dolls as the wind died down. Thomas lit another cigarette. The match momentarily illuminated his haggard face. 

Jeremy’s mother was down to her last options when Thomas asked Ludwig to help. She wanted their son to be safe, to stop getting in fights, to get out of Southie and make something of himself. His mother and Thomas didn’t speak often but she’d begged him to help. Thomas had never been around for the boy, so it came as a surprise when he agreed. 

Ludwig still wasn’t sure why Thomas didn’t simply tell Jeremy the truth. But he wasn’t one to judge another’s choices. He’d made plenty of mistakes of his own. There had been a few openings at the clinic, so Ludwig suggested Jeremy apply and that was that.

“What do you know about Mick?” Thomas asked, changing the subject of his interrogation. 

“Not much. But I can find more out. I was just as surprised to see him today as you were.” 

There was another silence between them as Thomas took a long drag. He sighed out the smoke, adding, “I’m not angry at you. I know it isn’t your fault, what that man does. How much longer?” 

“Five months still.” 

Thomas sighed. “Get in the car.” 

The drive to Ludwig’s apartment was tense. He’d made a mistake, allowing Jeremy to get so close to him. Now he may lose one of the few friends he had left. When they pulled to a stop, Thomas put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. 

“Tell me what you need,” he said, softly. “Tell me how I can help you.” 

Ludwig met his gaze. His shoulders sagged under the question. “I just need to survive.” 

“Don’t we all.” Thomas sighed heavily, considering his options. “In that case, I’ll be in touch.” 


	4. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last new cast member for this story: 
> 
> Engineer as Dell

The fluorescent lights of their office building always seemed to give Misha a headache about halfway through the day. Normally he’d take some time to stretch, go for a walk, maybe get some coffee with Ludwig but he’d hardly heard from him that day. In fact, he’d been quiet since they’d gone to the movies together. 

Misha was beginning to wonder if he’d crossed a line. 

A knock on his office door broke him from his thoughts but did little to stall his growing headache. Dell pushed his way inside, ladened with a box. “Got some more blueprints for you to look over,” he said, setting them on the desk. 

“Thank you.” 

“I wouldn’t thank me, these are gonna need a lot of adjustments,” Dell answered with a teasing smile. When he noticed that Misha was still focused on his phone, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I think it’s time for a break. Wanna get some lunch?” 

Misha and Dell worked for a construction company. Most of the time they were across the office from one another, communicating through email and the occasional phone call, but it was a small enough company that the engineer could make excuses to come visit his friend. The company was also tight-knit enough that dipping out for an extra long lunch didn’t raise too many eyebrows. It was one of the perks of the job that Misha appreciated. 

Dell was quiet as they sat on a bench in the park, each with a fresh deli sandwich on their lap. Finally, he said, “So when were you gonna tell me you were seeing someone?” 

Coughing hunks of sandwich onto the ground in front of him, Misha let out an undignified sound of confusion. Dell continued. 

“I mean, you been skippin’ lunches with me, getting coffee without me, using your phone like it’s your last lifeline. C’mon, you didn’t think I’d notice?” He gave Misha a hard look. “I’m your work husband, I notice these things.” 

Clearing his throat, the large man answered, “I’m not dating anyone.” 

“Then why are you always lookin’ at the messages you get like they’re from the Holy Mother herself?” 

Misha didn’t have an answer for that. He chewed on his lip, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “It’s… Complicated.” 

Dell rolled his eyes. “How complicated could it be?” 

“He’s married.” 

“Oh, shit.” 

Misha took a few bites of sandwich, not wanting to explain just yet. Dell was eyeing him but for his credit waited patiently. The Russian swallowed, hard. 

“He’s waiting to get a divorce,” he said. “And… I like him quite a bit. I’m just not sure what to do.” 

Sighing, Dell rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Listen, if someone’s saying they’re ‘gonna get’ a divorce but aren’t  _ actually _ divorced it means they’re dragging you along. You probably shouldn’t be dating if he isn’t gonna be serious.” 

“Oh, no. We aren’t dating,” Misha explained, quickly. “The first thing he told me when we met was that he was married.” 

“Then what’s the problem?”

Misha hesitated. “I… Am beginning to fall in love with him,” he admitted, softly. 

“How long until that divorce is finalized?” Dell asked. 

“He has to wait until they’ve been together five years. To keep his citizenship,” Misha explained. “I believe it’s five months until he can file.”

Dell puffed out a long breath. “That’s a long time to wait.” 

“And I don’t know if he feels the same,” Misha added. The big guy looked absolutely miserable. “I’m afraid to ask. I don’t want to scare him off, he is a good friend to me. I can wait for him, but I just need to know if he  _ wants _ me to.” 

“That’s a tough one, definitely,” Dell said. 

“I know!” Misha cried. “So what should I do?” 

Dell considered for a moment. “I think the best thing to do is continue to be his friend. If you say anything before he’s ready he could get the wrong idea. Just wait, let him heal. Maybe once the divorce is over and he’s had some time to spend with you, who knows.” 

The Texan always gave the best advice. Misha nodded along as Dell spoke, considering his words carefully. It would be much longer than five months, in that case. But Ludwig needed the time and space, and Misha was more than happy to give it to him. 

“Just don’t go gettin’ this idea that you  _ deserve _ him, you hear?” Dell demanded, pointing at him with a serious frown. “If the divorce goes through and he starts datin’ someone else you be good to that boy.” 

Chuckling, Misha answered, “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of laying claim to him. And I wouldn’t waste such a heartfelt friendship on pettiness like that.” 

Dell gave a sage nod before polishing off his sandwich. 

\---

Misha paced his apartment for a while after work, keeping an eye on his phone. He still hadn’t gotten any new texts from Ludwig, not since the goodnight text they’d shared after the movie. While he was beginning to worry, he also knew that it was possibly because he hadn’t sent a message first. There was also the thought that Ludwig wanted some space. 

At the very least Misha could offer a hand. Picking up his phone again, he began to type. 

‘ _ I hope your day at work went well. Are you available for a phone call? I would like to chat for a few minutes if you have the time. It’s always nice to hear your voice _ .’

The moment the text was sent Misha began to panic. Had that been too forceful? Did it sound like he was angry with him?  _ Was that last sentence even necessary _ ?

His phone rang. 

“Hello?” As soon as Misha spoke he realized he’d picked up without checking the caller ID. There was no need to. 

Ludwig answered, “ _ Good evening. I’m sorry to have left you without contact for a time. Work has been quite busy. _ ” He sounded pleased to hear from Misha at least. 

“It’s no trouble, really,” Misha answered. 

Now that he had the German on the phone his heartbeat had picked up. He wasn’t sure what to say, honestly. All he could think to ask was if he was safe and well. 

“ _ What was it you wanted to talk about? _ ” Ludwig asked. It sounded like he was cooking in the background. 

Misha relaxed back on his couch, silently scrambling for a topic. “Anything, really,” he decided. “Texting is fine, but sometimes I like to hear the person I’m talking to. Particularly if I haven’t heard from them in a few days.” He flinched at the statement.  _ Don’t make him feel guilty, idiot! _

A warm chuckle met Misha’s ear. “ _ Again, I apologize. I’ve been doing alright, though, you need not worry about me _ .” 

“... Are you sure?” 

There was a pause. “ _ Misha… _ ”

“I’m sorry,” Misha quickly said. “I don’t mean to overstep, really. It’s just… After I saw your black eye I’ve worried about your health. I want you to be okay. I want you to feel safe. No one should ever make you fearful, not ever.” 

There was a tense silence. He’d said all he could think to. Finally, Ludwig sighed. 

“ _ Misha… You are a very kind man. But I don’t believe you know me as well as you think _ .” 

His heart sank horribly. “I know that you love classical music,” he answered, softly. “That you love German food but are also pleased at American fusions featuring it. I know that you have a fondness for birds and you know more about local bird species than I could ever dream to know. I know that though you never studied philosophy or Russian literature you can hold your own in a conversation better than anyone I’ve ever met.

“And,” he added. “I know that you deserve happiness.” 

“ _ I… _ ” Ludwig took in a shuddering breath. “ _ You’re very sweet… And all of that is certainly true. _ ” Misha couldn’t help but smile. “ _ But I am not perfect _ .” 

“I hardly said you were perfect,” Misha interjected. 

“ _ Do you know why it took so long for me to consider a divorce with my husband? _ ” There was a pause. “ _ You can’t have thought this was the first time he left me with a black eye. _ ”

It was true, Misha had been certain there were times before. Ludwig was too good at lying about it and far too good at pretending the pain didn’t bother him. He couldn’t bring himself to speak as he waited for Ludwig to continue. 

“ _ It’s because I give as good as I get. _ ” 

There was a heaviness in those words that Misha didn’t dare unpack on his own. Instead he asked, “What do you mean?”

“ _ Exactly as it sounds. Did you think I let myself get slapped around? _ ” Ludwig scoffed as though the very thought insulted him. “ _ We used to get into rows quite often after the first year of marriage. Awful screaming matches that shook the walls and woke the neighbors. After a few months he would hit me. I would hit back. We would make up. Then he started hitting me back harder. _ ” 

The color drained from Misha’s face as he listened. 

“ _ I am not a quiet victim in this, Misha. I never was. _ ” 

“It isn’t your fault.” 

Silence. 

“ _ What? _ ” 

Swallowing, Misha said, “Even if you hit him back… Even if you rose to him, you don’t deserve what happened to you. You aren’t a bad person for losing your temper. What makes a person bad is how they react after. You defended yourself. Isn’t that right?”

“ _ And if that wasn’t the case? Would that make me a bad person in your eyes? _ ” 

Ludwig’s voice was so small, Misha couldn’t stand it. “It means you made a mistake. You don’t do it anymore, do you?” 

“ _ No. I don’t. _ ” 

Misha hesitated. “But… he still does it to you?” 

Another pause. “ _ Yes. _ ” 

Misha squeezed his eyes shut. He could still remember the mixture of colors surrounding Ludwig’s swollen eye. He’d stood by his side as it slowly faded, but the memory of it had left its mark. “Then you’re better. And he has not changed,” Misha answered, voice firm. “Ludwig, I know you. And I know you aren’t a bad person.” 

On the other end of the phone, Ludwig was hesitant. “ _ And what if you’re wrong? _ ” 

There was a part of him that knew what he was asking, but Misha softly asked, “Wrong about what?” 

“ _ About me? What if the next person... What if I’m just as bad to them as he was to me? What if I’m as bad as  _ I _ was to  _ him _? What if I hurt them _ ?” 

“Do you want to hurt them?” Misha asked, softly. 

“ _ No! _ ” Ludwig’s voice was choked. “ _ No… I never want to be the man I was again. Never… _ ” 

“Then you won’t.” It was so simple. 

“ _ But what-- _ ” 

“No more what-if’s,” Misha interrupted, voice gentle. “If you spend all your time worrying for the future you will never make it. I’ll be here. I can help you, Ludwig. I  _ want _ to help you. I want you to be the person you are now.” 

Ludwig took a few breaths. “ _ I’m afraid, Misha _ .” 

“I know,” Misha said. 

“ _ I’m afraid of how strongly I feel about you… _ ” 

Swallowing, Misha said, “I am, too. But I can wait. I’ll be here.” 

“ _ You shouldn’t have to. You don’t have to wait for me. I don’t even know that I’m worth the wait. _ ” 

“Have you not been listening to a word I said?” Misha teased. “ _ I _ think you are. No… I  _ know _ you’re worth the wait.” 

He was sure Ludwig would continue to disagree with him, but he wouldn’t give him the chance. As far as Misha was concerned everything Ludwig just told him meant nothing. It was all in the past, and it had been at the hands of that awful husband of his. His Ludwig was sweet and kind, perhaps a little off base about Russian literature. There was no way he would believe that Ludwig was a monster. 


	5. Walls

As the days went by, Ludwig seemed to open to Misha more and more. He was reluctant to let Misha walk him to work after coffee. Now, Misha would often meet Ludwig at the clinic to deliver him lunch or just stop by to say hello during the day. Ludwig continually refused rides home from him, nervous to allow the Russian to know where he lived. Misha had started staying later in the office specifically to take Ludwig home after his shift. 

Each day was shorter than the last, but the time they shared together stretched longer. Some days Misha would be invited inside for dinner. He and Ludwig would discuss more than just the trivialities of music and art. They talked about politics. They talked about their lives. They talked about love. 

“Did you have to go to medical school when you arrived here?” Misha asked one evening. 

Shaking his head, Ludwig answered, “I attended medical school in Germany, the Medizinische Fakultät in Heidelberg.” 

“Is that where you lived?” Misha took a seat at the kitchen table, setting down the plates he’d helped prepare. 

“I grew up in Stuttgart,” Ludwig said. “It’s the capital of Baden-Württemberg, it’s quite lovely.” 

Misha chewed his food, considering. “Do you mind if I ask why you left?” 

“I had no family,” Ludwig admitted. “My parents were quite old, they passed away just after I started working at my old clinic. They had no living relatives so… It was just me there.” 

Humming, Misha pushed some food around his plate. “That’s quite a large change, to move to the United States.” 

“Meanwhile you left your family behind you,” Ludwig said, voice soft. They had long since talked about his sisters and mother and Misha’s reasoning for leaving. He’d wanted to send money back to them and hopefully bring them with him someday. Every week he inched closer to his goal, but his mother was stubborn. She didn’t want to leave, it seemed, even if his sisters had begun their citizenship paperwork. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you.” 

“We speak,” Misha said. “They have a computer at least so we can talk whenever we want. The time zones are the difficult part.” They ate in silence for a bit before Misha asked, “If you got your medical degree in Germany, how did that work when you came here?”

Ludwig snorted, stabbing a potato with his fork. “I had to re-sit my exams.” 

“Did you really?” 

Nodding, Ludwig pointed the fork at Misha. “How insulting is that? Five years working in a clinic that I practically ran and they wanted me to take all of my exams over again. It’s as though they didn’t trust my knowledge.” 

Misha chuckled, watching the doctor finally bite into the potato. “I can see how that would be annoying to you. Were the exams any different?” 

“A bit. Mostly just having to translate from English to German in my head. Ridiculous… I attended the school I did because it was a WHO-recognized university. I thought that meant I wouldn’t have to do anything special to keep my medical degree but of course some countries just have to make things difficult.” 

“Yes of course,” Misha sighed. “You seem to be doing well enough now. In terms of your career that is.”    
  
Ludwig rested his chin in his hand, studying the Russian. “What about your work? Do you like it?” 

“Yes. There’s a lot of artistry but plenty of mathematics that goes into architecture. It combines my favorite areas of study into a challenging but rewarding career.”

"Have any of your designs been built?” 

“There are a couple in development now,” Misha admitted, smiling. “I spent my early time with the company running checks and adjustments rather than drawing my own designs.” 

“And now?” 

“I’m the head architect.” 

Ludwig smiled in return at that. “Well, that sounds like quite the accomplishment.” He raised his glass of beer, Misha doing the same. “Prost.” 

“ Na zdorovie.”

As the days went by Misha got a better idea of the countdown that Ludwig was keeping track of. He even started joining in. Some nights when things were beginning to feel like too much for Ludwig he would remind him how much time they had left. 

“Four months and one week,” he reminded on his way out the door. Ludwig’s grip on his hand tightened. 

“You don’t have to wait for me, you know,” Ludwig reminded.

Misha nodded. “I know. Good night, Doctor.” 

Ludwig’s voice was soft as he replied, “Good night, Misha.” 

They didn’t dare kiss. They never walked hand in hand. Misha always left after dinner. Even though they each knew how the other felt they couldn’t risk starting their relationship, not yet. Ludwig once remarked that he could do many things to Chevy given the chance, but cheat on him was not one of them. He would never do that to anyone. 

It was statements like that which convinced Misha he was right about him. His Ludwig was a good man. 

\---

It was beginning to grow cold when Misha and Ludwig met at their normal coffee shop early one morning. They each ordered a warm drink in the hope it would warm their hands on the way to the clinic. Walking side by side neither took a drink as they chatted.

“Do you still walk?” Misha asked. “Even with it getting so cold?” 

“I hate wasting money on ride shares, and the buses here don’t run on time,” Ludwig huffed. 

“You’ll catch a cold.” 

Ludwig rolled his eyes. “An old wives tale.” 

When they reached the clinic doors, Misha handed his coffee over for a moment. He took the long knitted scarf from around his neck and draped it over the doctor’s shoulders. He had to wrap it around twice so it wouldn’t reach too far. “Even if it is an old wives tale,” he said, gently. “I would rather you be warm. Take care now.” 

Clearing his throat, Ludwig handed the coffee back. “Yes, well… I will. Thank you.” Misha chuckled as Ludwig took off into the clinic. His face had gotten quite red. 

When Misha turned around he found a man nearly as large as himself blocking his way. 

“Excuse me,” he said, trying to step to one side. The man followed his movements. Confused, Misha looked into his face and saw a burning rage in his eyes. “Can I… help you?” 

Misha was grabbed by his collar, suddenly yanked closer to the man. 

“You think you’re pretty funny, don’tcha? Screwing around with my husband behind my back? Huh?!” 

The color drained from Misha’s face. This was Chevy. 

“Sir,” he said, calmly, “I assure you that Ludwig and I are just friends.” 

“I’m not stupid, pal,” Chevy hissed. “I was standing right here watching you. How about you and me have a little chat?” 

If he left with Chevy, Misha was sure there would be trouble. However, he didn’t like the idea of letting Chevy get into the clinic to Ludwig. Reluctantly, he nodded. 

“Atta boy.” 

Chevy shoved him away before heading down the steps and leading the way out of the clinic’s parking lot. Away from the security cameras. Misha glanced back at the doors before following him. 

The two men stared one another down, Chevy’s arms crossed as his eyes swept Misha from head to toe. Finally, he spoke up. 

“So what’s your name?”

“Mikhail,” Misha answered. 

“Hm. How’d you meet my husband, Mikhail?” 

“As I said, we are merely frie--”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass,” Chevy snapped. “Answer my damn question.” 

Misha frowned but replied, “The coffee shop up the road.” 

Chevy looked like he was considering his next move. It was a busy street and Misha was a big man. Even if he didn’t know how to fight he could certainly hold his own against Chevy if the need arose. They both knew that. Instead, Chevy took a different approach. 

“I get it. He’s handsome. Smart.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Good in bed.” 

“We haven’t--”

“But he’s married. I know he doesn’t wear his ring, but he is. Did he tell you that?”

“It was the first thing he told me, yes,” Misha answered, beginning to feel defensive. 

Chevy let out a derisive snort. “Huh. Yet you’re still bedding him?” He didn’t let Misha protest. “Listen,  _ Mikhail _ , I’d rather we be friends than enemies. I love Ludwig. I dunno what he told you, but that’s the truth of the matter. I’ve been doing what I can to get him back and I’m not gonna let anyone get in my way of that.” He narrowed his eyes at Misha. “Do we have an understanding?  _ Comrade _ ?” 

Sucking in a breath, Misha said, “I understand that. And I can assure you that we haven’t done any of the things you’re suggesting. Perhaps you don’t believe me because you’re too focused on what he’s doing and not enough on what  _ you’re _ doing to  _ him _ .” 

“What did you just say you--”

Misha was shoved into a wall, Chevy reeling back to hit him. Before he got the chance, a voice shouted, “ _ Hey! _ ” The two mountainous men looked up the street to see a thin young man bolting toward them, another close behind him. 

Chevy pushed away from Misha, glaring at the boy before pointing a finger at Misha’s face. “Stay away from Ludwig,” he snapped before storming off. 

Jeremy skidded to a stop beside Misha, shouting after Chevy, “ _ Yeah you’d better run!! I ever see you around here again I’mma give you the Boston special, pal! _ ” 

Sighing, Misha put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “I believe you were told to refrain from those.”

“Yeah well, Doc doesn’t have to know,” Jeremy answered as he shoved Misha’s massive hand off his shoulder. “The hell did that guy want with you?” Mick had caught up and replaced Misha’s hand with his own, gently pulling Jeremy closer to himself. 

“We had a misunderstanding,” Misha said. “I merely attempted to set the record straight, he did not believe me.” 

Mick clicked his tongue in annoyance. “That bloke needs to back off.” 

“Yeah no shit.”

“Still, I’m grateful you arrived when you did,” Misha added. “I would rather not get into a fight if I don’t have to.” 

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “You coulda taken him easy. And if someone would let me carry my bat with me I woulda helped.” 

Mick wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s shoulders, pulling him away from Misha. “Easy there ya gremlin,” he teased. He shot Misha an apologetic smile. “We’re working on it.” 

Since growing closer to Ludwig, Misha had also gotten introduced to some of the people in his life. Jeremy was quite protective of the doctor, something Misha had initially been happy to hear but quickly started to worry about. The boy was scrappy but a bit of a handful. His new boyfriend, Mick, seemed to keep him in check, at least. Misha hated to think about what a wild dog Jeremy had been in his time before Ludwig and Mick. 

“Don’t you have work, Jeremy?” Misha asked, gently. 

“Shit. Right.” Jeremy spun in Mick’s arms, giving him a terse kiss. “Bye.” He ducked out of his arms, giving Misha a pat on the elbow, and rushed toward the clinic. Mick leaned as his eyes followed Jeremy, making sure he made it to the doors safely. 

As soon as Jeremy was inside he let out a sigh. “Seriously, mate, you should file a police report,” he said to Misha. “That’s the second time I’ve seen that bloke harassing someone around here.” 

Misha hesitated. “If I do that it could cause trouble for Ludwig.” 

“Someone could get hurt. Hell, Jeremy  _ did _ get hurt,” Mick pointed out. 

Even if he had a point, Misha shook his head. “We can’t. Not yet.” 

Sighing, Mick nodded. “Right… You lot have your reasons, I suppose.” He paused before adding, “I’d hate to see someone get hurt because of this. If he don’t have consequences for his actions he’s just gonna keep acting.” Before Misha could argue, Mick turned on his heel and headed back to his van. 

He hated to admit it but Mick was right. The more they let Chevy push them around without consequence the bolder he was going to get. And now he knew that Ludwig and Misha were seeing one another. 

For now, Misha pushed the thought away. He’d promised Ludwig that he would do what he could to keep the situation quiet until the divorce, and that included not getting the police involved. Ludwig was living on his own, Chevy wasn’t allowed in the clinic, he didn’t know where Misha worked. Still, it was beginning to feel like the walls were closing in around them. He hated to think of what would happen before they were crushed. 


	6. Parisian Smoke

“He did what?” 

Misha hated the look of concern on Ludwig’s face. He tried to keep his eyes on the road as he drove him home from the clinic. “Approached me. Just this morning. It seems he saw me walking you to work,” Misha explained, referring to Chevy. 

Ludwig cursed in German, leaning back in the seat and running a hand through his hair. “Did he hurt you, Misha?” 

“No, no. Jeremy and Mick happened upon us and he ran off.” 

Groaning, Ludwig asked, “Jeremy saw?”

“Don’t worry. Mick has leveled out his hot headedness I should think.” 

“Not nearly enough,” Ludwig grumbled. “He didn’t say anything to me, though, so I assume he thinks you have things under control.” He glanced at Misha. “He seems to respect you.” 

Misha hoped that was a good thing. He pulled to a stop in front of Ludwig’s apartment building and turned fully to him. “What do you want me to do, Ludwig?” 

The doctor furrowed his eyebrows. “Me?” 

“He’s your husband. I won’t report it because I know that would be bad for you. But he does know that we’re seeing each other and I may not be safe to be around,” Misha explained. “So… Would you like me to keep my distance for a while? Or are you alright having me around?” 

Quietly, Ludwig answered, “I don’t want you to leave me…” 

Misha reached over the console to wrap his arms around Ludwig’s shoulders. Pulling him against his chest (best he could in the position they were in), he murmured, “I don’t want to leave you either. But sometimes we have to do things we don’t like to protect the people we love. If you ask me to, I will keep away for now, but I promise you I will come back.” He hesitated. “So..? What do you think we should do?” 

Ludwig contemplated his words before pulling away. “No,” he answered. “No I… I’m not going to let him take you away from me.” 

Nodding, Misha placed a comforting hand on Ludwig’s cheek. “I can find someone else to drive you to and from work if you’d like. It may be safer that way, he may recognize my vehicle.” 

“Misha, please…” Ludwig looked exhausted, his gaze cast down. “I’m sorry. But can we discuss this tomorrow?” 

Hesitantly, Misha said, “Alright.” 

\---

To say that finally meeting Chevy had shaken Misha was an understatement. He wasn’t completely sure what he’d been imagining when Ludwig mentioned his husband but the giant of a man he’d met hadn’t been on his radar. Misha knew he himself was a large man, but he was also gentle. Or, at the very least, he tried to be. Chevy on the other hand had hurt Ludwig before and was clearly not afraid to do so again. He’d also attacked Jeremy, who was even smaller than Ludwig. It was clear to Misha that Chevy was a man without honor or morals and because of that he was growing worried for his Ludwig’s safety. 

They still had four months left and Chevy was getting angrier and bolder by the day. 

He’d taken some time during his morning at work to bring Dell up to speed on the situation. The Texan wouldn’t leave him be, after all, and was constantly asking for updates on Ludwig and his husband. At the mention that he wasn’t sure if he should be trusted to drive Ludwig anymore, Dell perked up. 

“Shoot, I can take him home and back if you need someone to,” he offered. 

“Absolutely not,” Misha scoffed. “I am not getting anyone else involved, not where that man is involved.” 

Dell didn’t seem deterred. “He doesn’t know me, though. I can just drive right from work to the clinic to get Ludwig, take him home, go home myself. Same in the morning. It’ll be like I’m his rideshare picking him up, you really think that ogre would notice if the same car took him every day?” 

He certainly had a point. Still, Misha looked reluctant. “You shouldn’t have to put yourself in danger like this.” 

“You’re my friend,” Dell insisted. “And I’ve heard enough about this Ludwig that I know you’re head over heels for him. If I could do anything to help y’all I’m more than willing. Just say the word.” 

\---

Ludwig initially had the same concerns that Misha did but relented when the whole idea was explained. At the very least he and Dell would be in the car together and not seen in public. Except for the afternoon before Dell’s first pick-up when they would all have lunch together. It was Misha’s idea; he had hoped to introduce his friend and Ludwig under better circumstances, but this would have to do. And It would be better for them all to meet together so Ludwig recognized Dell when he came to get him in the evening. 

Misha and Dell walked from the office to the park where they med Ludwig. They’d picked up lunch for the three of them and Ludwig was waiting on a park bench, studying a flock of birds that had landed nearby. 

“Ludwig,” Misha greeted. When the doctor looked, he gave a small smile to them. “This is my friend Dell, he’s an engineer at the construction company I work for,” he explained. 

Dell held out a hand which Ludwig took and shook. “Nice to meet ya,” Dell greeted. “I’ve heard plenty about you,” he added with a sly grin. 

“All good I hope,” Ludwig said, giving Misha a look. 

“More than good,” Dell chuckled. 

“If you don’t mind, your accent is unique,” Ludwig noted, taking the sandwich Misha offered him. 

“Well I’m not from as far as the two of you but I’m not from around here. I moved from Texas.” 

Ludwig had to consider this a moment. “Yes, that is the large state by the border is it not?” 

“That’s the one.” 

“How long have you lived here?” 

Dell took a moment to do a mental count. “Couple years now, not too long though. I moved just to work for this company.” 

“It was rather small when you joined, wasn’t it Dell?” Misha offered. 

“Yeah, just a handful of guys at that point,” Dell noted. “But we’ve gotten bigger over the years. Ah, but enough of that boring business talk, tell me about where you’re from.” 

Something about Dell’s smooth Southern charm was able to calm Ludwig to the new driving situation. Misha could see how easy and pleasant their conversation was. To say he was relieved was an understatement. Dell was a man he knew he could trust with just about anything, including Ludwig. Knowing that he would be there when Misha himself could not would put his mind at ease. 

\---

Jeremy huffed when he heard about Ludwig’s new driver. “I keep offering to take you home,” he insisted. 

“True,” Ludwig answered, tucking the last of his paperwork away. “But lately you’ve been getting drives from Mick. I hate to be a bother to him when he already has to deal with taking _you_ home.” He shot Jeremy a knowing smile. 

The younger man bristled. “Yeah, well, I woulda driven you. I coulda started taking my own car again if you asked.” 

“Jeremy, I am glad you have someone who makes you feel safer to pick you up,” Ludwig replied. “I only wish that you didn’t have to be picked up at all. I wish _I_ didn’t have to get picked up either, but, well…” 

“Yeah...” 

The pair left the clinic together, Jeremy immediately jogging to the entry of the parking lot where Mick stood waiting for him. Ludwig waved at him before looking for Dell’s car. 

“Over here, Doc!” 

Dell was standing outside a beaten up pickup truck. For a moment Ludwig greatly regretted his decision to let this man drive him home but the kind smile on his face forced him to walk forward. 

Before he made it to Dell’s side, an old friend stepped between them. 

“I come all this way to take you home and you’ve already called a driver?” Thomas asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

As usual, Ludwig was surprised by his presence. 

“You really need to start calling before you show up,” he insisted with a small smile. 

Waving him off, Thomas turned to Dell. “I’m afraid your services are no longer needed. I will be taking him home.” 

Dell’s eyebrows shot up in reproach. He let out a little mirthless laugh as he replied, “Is that right? Well forgive me if I’m overstepping but I was under the impression I was _supposed_ to be here.” 

Ludwig quickly cut in. “Thomas, this is Dell. He’s a friend. Dell, this is my friend Thomas. Forgive him, he’s French.” 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” 

“You have never told me about this _Dell_ , Ludwig,” Thomas replied, giving Ludwig a hard look. “How long have you known him?” 

“He’s a friend of Misha’s. He kindly offered to take me home from now on.” 

Humming, Thomas lit a cigarette, barely resisting the urge to blow the smoke in Dell’s face. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, then. Typically I take Ludwig for dinner and home when I come to visit.” 

Dell didn’t appear to like this implication. He shot Ludwig a searching look then looked back at Thomas. “I’m not here to start any trouble,” he said. “I just came because Ludwig and Misha asked me to.” 

“Can we meet tomorrow, Thomas?” Ludwig suggested. “This is the first night Dell was supposed to take me home and I’d hate to send him away.”

“Tomorrow, then,” Thomas answered. “And my sincerest apologies. Really.” He sounded more relaxed now as he offered Dell a hand to shake. The Texan took it and it was clear Thomas wasn’t expecting it to be so firm because he was nearly thrown off balance. “You have… Quite a grip.” 

“Sorry there, didn’t mean to rip your arm off,” Dell teased. “You ready, Ludwig?” 

“I am. I’ll talk to you again tonight, Thomas.” 

Thomas waved him off, heading quietly to his car. 

On the ride home Ludwig tried to explain. “Thomas has been protective of me since he found out about my husband,” he began. “I think he has a need to take care of people in this strange flighty way of his.” Dell nodded along, letting Ludwig talk while he concentrated on the road. 

“He was the first person who saw me with bruises. I’d never seen Thomas so angry before, nor since. His reaction today was a little strange as well,” Ludwig added, thoughtfully. 

“Oh what, he doesn’t normally harass the driver?” Dell teased. 

Ludwig smiled. “Well, no.”

“Does he usually just show up outta the blue like that?” 

“Most of the time, yes. I think he asked me to go to coffee the first time we met but after he just sort of appeared when he wanted.” 

Dell looked thoughtful, turning a corner and parking in front of Ludwig’s apartment. He put the truck in park and fixed Ludwig with a concentrated look. “He’s afraid.” 

Ludwig nearly choked on his words, repeating, “Afraid?” 

“Of commitment. Of rejection. If he makes the rules and comes and goes as he pleases he can avoid losing out. He’s not used to being asked to come back another day, is he?” 

“You wouldn’t happen to be a psychiatrist, would you Dell?” Ludwig asked with a laugh. 

“Nah, I just know people. I’ve seen his type before.” Dell motioned for Ludwig to leave, adding, “Go on and hurry in, I’ll wait until you’re in the building before I leave. See you tomorrow, Doc.” 

Nodding, Ludwig climbed out. Despite the pickup truck and the Southern drawl it seemed that Dell had more to him. And based on the apology text that Ludwig had received from Thomas, _he’d_ recognized that as well. 

Going to and from work was going to be quite interesting for a while. 


	7. Cardiac Arrest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter contains an elongated panic attack, a minor physical altercation, and psychological abuse. Please stay safe.

Despite how ruffled he’d seemed by being sent away, Thomas arrived at Ludwig’s work the next afternoon for lunch. They ate together, talked quietly about mundane happenings, and watched the birds in the park. Ludwig decided against sharing Dell’s unique insight into Thomas for the time being. Honestly, he was grateful to have a friend who would arrive at any time for him. Once upon a time he didn’t have many friends to speak of and now it seemed he had plenty. 

One of the down sides to having Dell drive him to and from work was losing out on some quality time with Misha. Instead they would text back and forth throughout the day. Misha would text him once he’d arrived home and request that Ludwig let him know when he was safe. He asked every day without fail. 

Though Ludwig had at first been put off by Dell’s exterior he found him an excellent conversationalist. The man was whip smart and disgustingly kind. He always seemed to have some sort of insight or wisdom to offer when Ludwig was down. Some evenings it was hard to get out of the truck and go inside, the conversation was so gripping. 

Chevy conversed with Ludwig less and less these days. He still sent the occasional text asking how he was, but if Ludwig decided to leave it for later he didn’t get a volley of follow-up messages demanding he be responded to. Of course, all good things must come to an end. 

Ludwig’s phone rang one morning as he was leaving his house for work. Out of instinct, assuming it was the clinic, he answered as he climbed into Dell’s car. “Hello?” 

“ _ It’s nice to hear your voice. _ ” 

Ludwig’s grip on his phone tightened. He’d almost forgotten what that pit in his stomach felt like. “Hello Chevy…” Dell’s head whipped toward him but Ludwig waved for him to drive. “I’m just heading into the office, what do you need?” 

“ _ Can we talk? Do you have a minute? _ ” 

He sounded strangely calm. 

“I have… Ten minutes,” Ludwig offered, looking at the clock. “What do you need?” 

“ _ I’m sure you’ve heard some things about me. Some things I’ve done or said. _ ” Ludwig was quiet as he listened, nodding along. “ _ I know that doing those things isn’t helping my case. It isn’t making you see that I’ve changed. So… I’m sorry. About all of it. _ ” 

“Okay,” Ludwig answered. He didn’t know that he could flat out tell Chevy that he accepted his apology. Not even if the other started screaming at him. 

There was a pause. When Chevy seemed to realize he wasn’t going to be forgiven so easily he continued. “ _ I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said. Going to therapy and what-not. And I think I’m finally ready to do it. _ ” 

Ludwig glanced at Dell to see if he was listening before turning toward the window. “Have you… I mean… Do you..?” 

“ _ I started talking to my doctor. We’re gonna find me a therapist, babe. _ ” 

There was a slow building of pain in Ludwig’s chest. He knew it wasn’t a heart attack, but for a moment he almost feared it was. Dizzily, he rested his head on the window. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re finally getting the help you need,” he answered, voice soft. 

“ _ Will you see me, then? _ ” 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ludwig slowly said, “Once you start. When you start and improve a little, then I’ll come see you.” 

The last thing he wanted to do was make a promise like that, but he was a man of his word. He’d said that if Chevy got help he would give him another chance. The pain in his chest was beginning to build and his mind whirled with possibilities. How could he even prove that Chevy was going to therapy at all? What if this was all just a trick to get him to move back in with him? What was he going to tell Misha? Would  _ he _ be mad that he was giving Chevy another chance? 

“ _ Baby? _ ”

“I’m here,” Ludwig gasped. 

“ _ Are you alright? You sound like you can’t breath. _ ” 

Ludwig could hear his breath coming in short gasps. He hadn’t realized how audible it had been. Mouth dry, he tried to form a response but had to take a moment of deep breathing before he could manage. “Swallowed wrong,” he finally said. “I was trying not to cough.” 

A long pause. 

“ _ Okay. Well, my ten minutes are up. _ ” Dell had pulled into a spot in the parking lot. “ _ I’ll let you go. I love you, baby. I’ll call you again next week, if that’s okay? _ ” 

Chevy never asked. He normally just did as he pleased. A little surprised, Ludwig could only reply, “Okay.” 

When the line went dead Ludwig opened the door. The seat belt was still strapped across his chest and for a moment he struggled as he tried to get out but couldn’t move. Sharp breaths. With shaking hands he unhooked himself from the seatbelt and stumbled out of the truck. The world felt tilted, his whole body was numb. He didn’t even feel like he was in control of his legs as he walked to the front of the clinic. 

“Ludwig?” Dell called, following him. “Hey! Hey, stop, are you okay?” 

When Dell caught up with him he grasped Ludwig’s arm, only for the doctor to rip out of his grip. Dell took a startled step back as Ludwig turned on him, his hand balled into a fist. 

The scene stood frozen until Ludwig realized what he was doing. 

“I… I’m so sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t… I mean…” 

“Are you okay?” Dell repeated, firmly. 

“No,” Ludwig said. 

“What happened?” 

“Chevy… He’s going to therapy.” 

Dell frowned at that. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“If he goes to therapy… I’ll have to see him again.” 

Everything felt so far away. Ludwig could hardly hear his own voice. He looked down at his hands and saw they were trembling. Dell slowly approached him again. “You need some water,” he offered gently. “You need to sit and take a breather. Do you want me to come inside with you?” 

“Yes.”

\---

Misha arrived early with their lunch that day and insisted they go for a walk in the park. Their hands brushed occasionally, a small jolt going through Ludwig when they did. It felt better than the numbness he’d felt after that morning. 

“I’m sure Dell told you about my little episode this morning,” Ludwig said, finally. Misha was being far too quiet for his liking. 

“You had a panic attack,” Misha answered. His voice was too soft, too sympathetic. 

Frowning, Ludwig looked at him. “Yes, I did. But I’m fine now. See?” 

It was clear that there was more Misha wanted to say. He couldn’t bring himself to speak as Ludwig steered them to a stop. His eyes were narrowed as he grasped Misha’s arm roughly, forcing him to look at him. 

“I am  _ fine _ ,” he hissed. “I am  _ not weak _ . That man means  _ nothing to me. _ ”

“You’re hurting me…” 

Ludwig withdrew as though he’d been burnt, eyes wide and fearful. When he looked down at Misha’s exposed wrist he could see a red mark where his hand had been. He could feel his chest tightening again, his eyes glued to that awful mark. 

_ You hurt him. You hurt Misha.  _

Misha was speaking. He couldn’t hear the words, he felt far away. But Ludwig could see the way he kept his distance from him. 

_ You’re just as bad as he is. You’re a monster. _

The mark was already fading, but Ludwig could imagine the dark bruise that might form had he held on just a bit tighter, a bit longer. He could imagine the crescent shapes that would have been made by his nails if he’d dug them in. 

_ Just go back to Chevy. You deserve each other.  _

“Ludwig?”

Tears were sliding down Ludwig’s cheeks and clouding his vision. Misha reached out to brush them away but Ludwig quickly stepped back. 

“I… I won’t hurt you,” Misha said. His voice was so gentle.  _ He  _ was so gentle. He was so kind. He was so  _ good _ .  _ Too _ good...

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” Ludwig whispered. 

Before Misha could argue with him Ludwig left. He went hungry the rest of the day. 

\---

Ludwig closed his practice early, letting Jeremy go home ahead of him. The other doctors were still working but he’d told the front desk to reschedule all his appointments. He couldn’t concentrate, not after this afternoon. Instead of waiting for Dell, Ludwig walked home. It was properly Fall now and a cold chill blew through him occasionally. Ludwig wrapped Misha’s long scarf around himself a little tighter, his chest aching. 

At home Ludwig decided to be decent and at least check his phone. Dell had called. He texted to apologize for not being there. Misha had texted several times which was unusual for him. Ludwig wasn’t sure he wanted to speak with him yet, not after what he’d done, but he decided to read the messages he’d sent. 

‘ _ I’m sorry about this afternoon. I know that you didn’t mean to grab me so hard. I want to talk about this if we can. _ ’

‘ _ I’m not angry with you, Ludwig. I want to talk. Call me, please? _ ’ 

‘ _ Are you alright? Dell said you weren’t at the clinic. _ ’

‘ _ Ludwig please don’t punish yourself like this. I’m here for you, we all are. At least let me know you’re home safe. _ ’

Dammit… Ludwig sighed, texting a terse, ‘ _ I’m home. _ ’ 

Within a moment he had a response. 

‘ _ Can I call you? _ ’

Ludwig had to consider before answering, ‘ _ I can’t bring myself to speak right now. _ ’ 

There was a minute break this time before Misha answered. 

‘ _ Then just listen. _ ’ 

He couldn’t keep himself from dialing Misha’s number. 

“ _ You don’t have to speak _ ,” Misha said when he answered, his voice tender. “ _ I’ll do all the talking, you just listen to me. Is that alright? _ ” 

Ludwig let out a little affirmative noise. 

“ _ You’re hurting, _ ” Misha began. “ _ You are hurting more than even you understand. You need help. I know that what happened scared you, I know you’re afraid of being what you hate. But Ludwig I know you so well by now. You are not that person. You never could be. What happened, it was an accident. I just want you to know that I believe in that person that you really are and not the monster you think of yourself as. _ ” 

Misha waited a beat before adding, “ _ That’s all I wanted to say. I’ll leave you-- _ ”

Ludwig interrupted, voice shaking, “All of that… Sounds a lot like what I told  _ him _ .”

There was an uncomfortable pause. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Misha… I don’t want to put you in that position with me. I want you to promise me that if I  _ ever _ step over the line with you that you’ll run.”

“ _ I… _ ”

“I can’t be with you if you don’t promise,” Ludwig insisted. “Promise me that you won’t let me do that to you ever again.”

For a terrifying moment Ludwig was afraid he would refuse. Finally, Misha replied, “ _ I can promise you, I won’t let you hurt me. But know that I do want to help you. _

“ _ I’m here for you. Always. Have a good night, Ludwig. _ ” 

The line went dead and Ludwig sat with his face in his hands for what felt like hours. His mind was reeling, going over the day over and over again. He wished he could go back. More than anything he wished he didn’t have to make Misha promise what he did. But it was better than feeling like he was falling into the same traps that Chevy had when they were first together. 

By the time Ludwig pulled himself together his stomach was screaming for food and it was plenty dark outside. With a sigh he stood, passing the front door to go to the kitchen. He paused, noticing a small white envelope in front of the door. 

He had no mail slot. The door was too close to the ground to slide anything under. It was neatly placed right in front of the door as though someone had stepped inside, placed it there, and walked away. 

Heart pounding, Ludwig crossed to the letter. He crouched to retrieve it. Flipping it over he saw no name on the other side. Just a plain, white envelope with the flap tucked into the body of the envelope. It felt like a single note card was inside. 

Ludwig flipped open the unsealed flap, pulling out the card inside in a sick imitation of an award show announcement. 

In a hand he knew only too well were three simple words:

“ _ I found you. _ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to put a disclaimer at the end of this chapter because I hope that readers don't misconstrue my meaning here. As a child from an abusive home and a survivor of domestic abuse I know from experience that sometimes your greatest fear is becoming the person who you've been abused by. Ludwig already had some of the signs prior to meeting Misha. That does not make him a bad person. However, I am not making excuses for his behavior in this chapter. People make mistakes. Ultimately, my goal was to show how terrifying it can be when you realize you may be becoming the thing you hate the most. 
> 
> I hope this makes sense and doesn't upset anyone. Thank you for reading.


	8. Lilies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Descriptions of animal abuse, violence, and a hospital. Please stay safe.

The moment Jeremy’s car pulled to a stop in front of his apartment Ludwig climbed inside. Mick was seated in the back, looking out the windows and studying every part of the street he could see. It had taken a bit of negotiating to figure out who would get Ludwig but ultimately Jeremy was chosen because his car was the least conspicuous. Before Ludwig was even buckled they took off. 

The drive was silent. Ludwig was trying his best to keep from shaking. Jeremy was concentrated on driving the most illogical route possible while Mick kept his eye on the cars around them. The last thing they wanted was to be followed. 

They finally arrived after a grueling thirty minutes. The three of them headed inside where the rest of the group was waiting. 

“Are you alright?” Dell immediately asked, stepping aside for them to enter his home. “How was the drive?”    
  
“No one followed us,” Mick answered. “At least not so far as I saw.”

“Ludwig,” Dell said. This drew the doctor’s attention. “Drink some water, have a seat. Jesus, Mary and Joseph you’re shakin’ like a leaf…” 

“I don’t blame him,” Thomas answered. He stood off to the side in the living room, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s one thing to be found. It’s another entirely for someone to enter your home to leave you a note about it.” 

Ludwig’s eyes darted around the room until they landed on Misha. Tears welling in his eyes he crossed to him. Misha’s arms were open before he was even halfway there and he was enveloped in a tight embrace. “It’s alright,” Misha murmured. He ran a hand up and down Ludwig’s back, giving him a squeeze. “You’re safe. It’s alright…”

Thomas didn’t look so certain. “He’s becoming bold. He wouldn’t have left that note if it didn’t mean something.” 

“Can we discuss this later?” Dell interjected. “The poor man  _ just _ got here, let him breathe.” 

The conversation faded into the background as Ludwig’s mind wandered. Everything seemed far away as he sat and went over the last several months, trying to figure out where he might have slipped up, how he could have been caught, who would have seen him. His heart started racing again when he thought of the note placed perfectly inside his door. He still wasn’t sure when it had been put there, if it had been before he arrived home or sometime after. The thought that Chevy opened his door just to leave the note  _ knowing _ he was home was absolutely terrifying.

“Ludwig,” Misha’s gentle voice came to him, a hand resting on his shoulder.    
  
“I’m sorry… What?” Ludwig tried to shake off the fog he was in, glancing up at the Russian.    
  
“I… Asked why you moved out. If you don’t mind. Should we call the police, get someone involved?” 

Thomas stepped in, frowning. “He doesn’t have to explain. It makes no difference. This was an invasion of his privacy, that’s all that matters. We’ll find somewhere else for him to stay.” 

“No, I…” Ludwig sucked in a breath. “Thomas, you’re the only one who knows. I should explain.” 

“You don’t have to,” Dell insisted. “If it’s hard. You’ve been through a lot already, maybe you should lie down.” 

A slight shake of his head and Ludwig began. “I’d grown used to it. The physical altercations. I thought we could survive it, I was convinced that it was just something I had to deal with from my husband.” He glanced at Misha who gave him an encouraging nod. He turned back to the room. “For a while I fought back. First with words, then physically. At some point it didn’t make sense to fight back anymore as it would just make things worse. I thought being passive would make things easier on me but… It didn’t.

“The thing that ended it, the event that caused me to leave for good, in a way it wasn’t any worse than any other time,” Ludwig explained. “A few bruises. A sprained wrist. Lots and  _ lots _ of screaming.” There was a pause, then, “But he took something from me that day. I had a bird, a dove. Archimedes. He was the most important thing I had brought with me from Germany.” 

Misha’s hand slipped from Ludwig’s shoulder, sliding into his hand instead. Squeezing it for comfort, Ludwig persisted. 

“My husband was angry because he was under the impression I took care of Archimedes better than I did him. Dinner was delayed because I arrived home late from the clinic that evening. So he…” 

Tears welled in Ludwig’s eyes as he remembered that day. Archimedes’ frantic squawks as Chevy snatched him from his cage still haunted him. He remembered the bloodied feathers littering the apartment. Misha began stroking his hand. 

“That’s enough,” Thomas interjected. “I think he’s suffered enough indignity for one day.” 

Jeremy was the first to recover, crossing the room to crouch in front of Ludwig. “Doc,” he said. “Whatever you need. I’m here for you. We all are. Just tell us what to do and we can do it for you.” Dell and Mick nodded in agreement. 

“I still… Have three months. Three and a half months left,” Ludwig explained. 

“To hell with that,” Mick grumbled. “This bloke’s broken into your flat, he’s attacked multiple people. You won’t last three months.” 

Thomas shot Mick a glare but Ludwig nodded in understanding. He wasn’t wrong. And the longer they waited to act the worse the retaliation was going to be. After Archimedes was killed Ludwig began to understand just how dangerous Chevy really was. Things had gotten better when he was on his own, but now that Chevy knew where he was that peace was shattered. 

Dell spoke up saying, “For now, you’ve got a safe place to stay. My spare bedroom is open for you for as long as you need.” 

“If you need to go somewhere else you can stay with me, Doc. I mean… It ain’t as fancy as this place but I can take the couch,” Jeremy offered. 

Nodding, Ludwig said, “I appreciate it. I think I  _ would _ like to lie down for the evening.” 

“Not a problem, let me get you set up,” Dell answered. 

\---

The question now that Ludwig was safe was what the plan would be. He called the clinic and took an extended vacation so he wouldn’t have to go into the office. Jeremy was offered to work with another physician but Ludwig was afraid he would be accosted so he decided to take Ludwig’s vacation as one of his own. The group agreed that it wouldn’t be safe for them to continually visit Dell’s home specifically to see Ludwig as they still weren’t sure how Chevy found out where he lived, so Ludwig was mostly confined to phone calls and text messages. 

The one exception was Misha. 

Because Misha and Dell were friends normally it wouldn’t seem strange if they visited one another after work every once in a while. It was nice having Misha around more often. 

After a few days Ludwig formulated a plan. He texted the group that he was going to gather what items he could from his apartment and try to find a new one. If worse came to worst he would file for divorce and a restraining order. 

Jeremy was the first to respond. 

_ ‘it’s not a good idea for u to go alone :/ let me go insted’ _

Thomas answered. 

_ ‘He’s correct. But I am willing to go.’ _

_ ‘we’ve got it. the van can fit everything,’ _ Mick replied. 

There was some more back and forth before they agreed to allow Misha to come with. A day was chosen, a plan was set, and Ludwig tried his best to not lose his mind with worry as the trio set out mid-day to get his things. 

\---

“I don’t think I’ve ever been inside Doc’s place,” Jeremy noted as they climbed the stairs. Misha had a pack of cardboard boxes under one arm. Mick reached around Jeremy to unlock the door, pushing it open. “Not sure what I expected but maybe less… Flowers?” 

Concerned, Misha gently moved Jeremy out of the way and looked around. Sure enough there were bouquets of flowers in vases throughout the house. They were in various stages of wilt. “He’s been here,” he said. “Ludwig hates cut flowers.” 

“What like recently?” Jeremy asked as Misha began setting up a box. “Shouldn’t we tell somebody? How the hell is he getting in?” 

“Probably made a copy of the key,” Mick reasoned. He was wrapping some of the ornamental items on a bookshelf. 

Jeremy hesitated as he glanced around the room. There was a foreboding air to the entire apartment now. The oldest flowers were bunches of red roses, some of them with ribbons or charms attached to them. As he walked through the apartment he saw that some of the newer flowers had changed. He saw white roses, some green mixed in. And then he saw a bouquet that made him pause. It was overflowing with pristine, white lilies. The last time he’d seen flowers like that was at his grandmother’s funeral. They were the freshest of the bunch.

“Creep,” he grumbled, a shudder going down his spine. 

Deciding to push through the feelings, Jeremy headed down the hall to the bedroom. He could at least make himself useful and start grabbing some of Ludwig’s clothes. The door to the bedroom was closed and he pushed it open to step inside. 

“Hey babe, can I get a box in h--”

Something smashed into his gut. Hard. Jeremy was on the floor, coughing, when the door closed and locked. 

Misha and Mick looked up when they heard Jeremy’s body hit the floor. Without thinking Mick rushed to the bedroom. He tried the door. “Jeremy,” he called. 

An impact. Jeremy screamed. 

Misha was at Mick’s shoulder, pounding on the door. “Jeremy!” 

_ “Get away from me!” _ Jeremy shouted. He whimpered as another thump sounded through the door. 

The next thing Misha knew he’d broken the door down. The door jam was in splinters but they were in. A large figure stood over Jeremy’s body holding a baseball bat. Mick tackled him. His weight wasn’t enough to knock the man over but he clearly hadn’t been expecting to be interrupted. The baseball bat dropped and the man stumbled away, bumping into the dresser. 

“Jeremy. Jeremy!” Misha knelt by his side, checking him. His wrist was twisted at an odd angle, an angry bruise forming at his temple. The boy was out cold. “Shit…” 

The dresser’s mirror was smashed as the attacker threw Mick into it. A shower of glass descended on the Australian as he slumped to the floor. The man kicked him in the gut once. Twice. Three times. 

Then he turned to Misha. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised he sent his new boy toy to get his stuff,” Chevy said. His voice was eerily calm as he crunched over the glass toward Misha. “Coward. He can’t even be bothered to face me after everything we’ve been through together. Oh well.” He crouched down to meet Misha’s eyes. “Make sure he knows this is his fault.” 

Chevy stepped over Jeremy’s legs and made for the door. 

“Stop.” 

Chevy paused. 

Misha was on his feet, eyes narrowed. “How can you do this to someone you claim to love?”

“I didn’t come here to get a therapy session,” Chevy snorted. “You gonna throw a punch? Or are you just gonna stand there?” 

As much as he wanted to attack the beast in front of him, Misha couldn’t bring himself to. Instead he pulled out his phone, dialing. Chevy looked ready to mock him until he heard the person on the other line. 

_ “911, where is the location of your emergency?” _

\---

Ludwig was running toward the emergency room the moment the truck stopped. Terrified, his eyes scanned the occupants before Misha approached him. “Where are they?” he gasped. “What happened?” 

“They’re being seen to,” Misha answered, softly. “They’re going to be fine.”

“Where is he?” 

“He ran the moment I called the police. Ludwig, I’m sorry but I couldn’t--”

Shaking his head, Ludwig buried his face in Misha’s chest. “I know… I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry…” 

Dell stepped inside followed closely by Thomas. The latter’s face was set in a concentrated frown. They approached Misha, exchanging pleasantries and information. The only thing they could do now was sit and wait. 

It wasn’t long before a doctor approached them, asking if they were there for Jeremy and Mick. 

“They’re fine. Jeremy has a broken wrist, a couple of broken ribs, and a concussion so we would like to keep him for observation. Mick had to get some stitches. They’re ready to take visitors now, but we’re requesting only two at a time.” 

Thomas stood. “I’d like to see Jeremy.” 

They negotiated the room numbers and the group was split. Misha and Ludwig went to see Mick while Thomas and Dell headed to Jeremy’s room. On the way there, Thomas stopped them. 

“I mean no offense,” he said. “But I would like to speak with Jeremy alone for a few minutes.” 

“Any particular reason?” Dell asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Not one I care to share with you.” Dell must have looked offended because Thomas added, “Forgive my rudeness. This is a difficult situation. I just… I have something to speak with him about and I would like some privacy.” 

Letting out a sigh, Dell nodded. “I guess I’ll go have a smoke then.” 

“Take one of mine. As an apology.” 

“Much obliged,” Dell answered. He took the cigarette, fitting it behind his ear. “Good luck with your uh… Situation.” Nodding, Thomas waited for Dell to leave the hallway before going the rest of the way to Jeremy’s room. 

The room seemed too bright. The fluorescent lights cast a sickly glow over Jeremy’s skin, highlighting the darkening bruises on his face and partially exposed chest. The blush of purple made him look paler than usual. 

Jeremy tried to sit up a little straighter as Thomas entered the room, grunting in pain. “H-hey,” he choked out. “What’s up, where’s Doc?” 

“Visiting your friend,” Thomas replied. He pulled up a chair beside Jeremy’s bed. 

“Where’s Mick..? And Misha?” 

“They are fine. I’ll be seeing Mick next, Misha sustained no injuries.” 

There was a pause as Jeremy studied the older man’s face. “What is it?” 

“I have something important I need to speak to you about,” Thomas finally said. “I realized when I was told you were injured that I may have gone your whole life without telling you. I’m a man who doesn’t like living with regrets, Jeremy. You understand this?” A small nod. “Good.” Thomas took a breath in and out.

“Take it easy, man,” Jeremy said. He gave him a teasing smile. “What, you gonna pull a Star Wars or somethin?  _ Jeremy, I am your father _ .” He laughed a little at his bad Vader impression but winced as his broken ribs ached. Thomas wasn’t laughing. He didn’t even smile. He was staring at Jeremy with this intense, almost guilty look. “... Wait.”

Thomas rubbed his hands along his face. He really needed a cigarette. 

“You’re… No. You’re  _ really _ my father?” 

Nodding, Thomas finally found his voice. “I was young and unprepared when I met your mother. So I ran. It was the biggest mistake in my life and by the time I realized it, it was too late to go back.”

“You knew. This  _ whole _ time you knew. And you never told me?” Jeremy demanded. 

They’d only met when he began working at the clinic. Up until then Jeremy had no memory of this man. Perhaps one from a very  _ very _ long time ago of him coming to see his mother and introducing himself. 

“You didn’t need me,” Thomas insisted. “Would you have accepted me if I had introduced myself as your father the first time we met?” 

Considering this, Jeremy frankly said, “I probably woulda punched you.” 

He was only half joking, but it got Thomas to smile. “I would not have blamed you.” 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Jeremy asked after a small pause. 

“I had a plan, on your thirtieth birthday. But this situation with Ludwig has taken over both our lives it seems and I had to tell you before the situation got any worse.” 

“You’re not gonna scold me for gettin’ the crap beaten outta me, are you? Cause he jumped me.” 

“No… But I  _ am _ going to tell your mother.” 

Jeremy leaned back with a groan. “Great…” 


End file.
